


movie night (or: logan suffers through sharknado)

by lovelylogans



Series: sanders sides platonic week [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Food mentions, Gen, Movie Night, Sharknado - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:23:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylogans/pseuds/lovelylogans
Summary: This was a tradition none of them missed out on if they could help it, now that it was practically honed into an art.Patton would bake and cook; cookies, brownies, popcorn, homemade dips,  finger foods and appetizers. Roman would gather up blankets, pillows, and arrange the couch to his comfy satisfaction. Logan was in charge of movie organization, which ranged from rational (alphabetical order, genre) to the nonsensical (movies in which the lead man had a mustache, movies in which two actors overlapped). Virgil mostly handled afterwards, the cleanup, because the other sides fell asleep much easier than he did.No one was in charge of monitoring the peace, becausemovie nightandpeacefulwere direct opposites.





	movie night (or: logan suffers through sharknado)

This was a tradition none of them missed out on if they could help it, now that it was practically honed into an art.

Patton would bake and cook; cookies, brownies, popcorn, homemade dips, finger foods and appetizers. Roman would gather up blankets, pillows, and arrange the couch to his comfy satisfaction. Logan was in charge of movie organization, which ranged from rational (alphabetical order, genre) to the nonsensical (movies in which the lead man had a mustache, movies in which two actors overlapped). Virgil mostly handled afterwards, the cleanup, because the other sides fell asleep much easier than he did. 

No one was in charge of monitoring the peace, because _movie night_ and _peaceful_ were direct opposites.

They traded off on who picked the movie each week; Roman would unerringly pick Disney or a musical, Patton tended to go for happy movies or comedy, Logan tended more towards documentaries and true-life, and Virgil was a bit of a wild card. 

Roman was carefully adjusting the fairy lights strung around the ceiling to give the room a hazy look, and to provide light to anyone who needed to take a bathroom break or head to the kitchen. Logan was straightening a stack of DVDs, and Virgil was helping Patton place the food on the coffee table. 

“Whose turn is it this week?” Patton asked, carefully setting down a glass pan full of buffalo chicken dip, as Virgil straightened a bowl of chips beside it. “I picked last week, didn’t I?”

“No, that was the week before,” Roman said, tilting his head back and forth to survey the lights before climbing down from a stepladder. “Last week was Logan, wasn’t it? We rewatched Planet Earth and you were upset because—“

Virgil and Logan shot a warning glare at Roman before he could bring up a cuddly baby animal death, who cleared his throat and said, “Anyways, it’s _my_ turn—”

“_Uh,” _Virgil cut in loudly, “Don’t even _try_ to steal my week, Aladdin wannabe, it’s _my_ turn.”

“Virgil is correct,” Logan said, as Patton had vanished to the kitchen, so it fell to him to be the mediator. “Your week is next week, Roman.”

“But you’re going to pick something _boring,”_ Roman complained, and Logan said, “It’s _Virgil’s_ week, so _Virgil_ gets to pick what he wants to watch. Those were the terms. No switching weeks unless previously agreed upon by both parties.”

Roman huffed out a long, dramatic, “_Fiiine,” _and draped himself on the couch, twirling his wrist to place dramatically over his forehead. “Pick what you _will,_ Judge Moody, I suppose I’ll have to _suffer—_”

“Brownies are ready,” Patton said brightly, emerging from the kitchen, carefully cradling the pan in oven-mitt-enclosed hands.

“_Ooh,”_ Roman said, melodrama forgotten, sitting up. “Are they—?”

“Symphony brownies, yep,” Patton said, smiling.

The other sides joined in the “_ooh” _chorus, crowding in on Patton, who fended them off the best he could with his elbows.

“They have to _cool_ first,” Patton said. “The buffalo chicken dip’s cooled, though, you should make a dent in that first.”

The other three sides did as directed, which wasn’t exactly a chore, scooping the dip into bowls and gathering up handfuls of chips. Patton situated the brownies, carefully setting them on the oven mitts to protect the table, completing the spread.

“So,” Patton said, carefully spooning the dip into his own bowl, “What d’you think you’re gonna pick, Virgil?”

Virgil placed his hand over his mouth, as he’d just crunched down on a chip, and held up a finger, flushing a little at the sudden attention. He shrugged as he chewed, swallowed, and said, “Dunno. Haven’t thought about it.”

“Take your time,” Logan said, and nodded to the DVD stacks. Virgil got to his feet, carefully reading titles as Logan, Patton, and Roman started to get the couch situated, slow, as they were still munching away at their chips and dip. 

Virgil saw the title, and pressed his lips together before carefully wiggling it loose, examining it, and nodding decisively. 

Perfect.

“You picked something, Virge?” Patton asked cheerfully, likely through a mouthful of chips by the sound of it.

“Mhm,” Virgil said, turning the case over in his hands and popping out the DVD. “Everyone got everything they need?”

“Drinks,” Logan realized. “We need drinks. What does everyone want?”

There was a brief break in conversation as Roman and Patton went to the kitchen to get all the drinks, deposited into color-coded glasses (purple for Virgil, blue for Patton, red for Roman, black for Logan) and settled in the likely configurations of how everyone would sit. Virgil knelt and loaded the DVD into the player, before slouching over to the couch and taking his place between Logan and Patton, Roman on Patton’s other side. 

Logan was the first one to piece it together, likely from the previews and his familiarity with the DVD setup. He turned to Virgil, pained betrayal painted on his face.

“_No_,” he said. “Please no.”

Virgil, snickering, settled back into the couch cushions with his cup of sprite. “What happened to to me picking what I want to watch?”

“What?” Roman said, suspicious, squinting over Patton’s head as Logan groaned. “What is it? What?”

Virgil smirked, and said, “You’ll see.”

Logan, sulking, reached for a cookie and curled up under a blanket.

The play menu loaded, and Roman started _cackling,_ louder and louder, arm flung over his eyes, and Patton hid his grin in his cup of water. 

“Interesting choice, kiddo,” Patton said, avoiding Logan’s glower as he pressed play.

“This movie holds _no scientific reasoning,”_ Logan complained. “It’s _nonsensical. _It_ could not _happen._”_

“It’s_ hilarious, _Captain Calculator,” Roman said, grinning. “I approve of this choice, Sailor Gloom.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was looking for, your approval,” Virgil said, reaching across Patton to poke Roman in the stomach, and Roman reached to poke back, and Patton said “hands to _yourselves,_ you two,” in his best Dad Voice.

It barely even took thirty seconds into the movie before Logan’s first outburst.

“There is no way _that_ manysharks would _swim_ into a hurricane like that,_”_ Logan burst out, and Virgil tried his best to smother his snorting into his glass. “What kind of _storm_ allows a shark to _fly_?! Much less _into someone to eat them whole—”_

_“Sharknado_ is a beautiful cinematic masterpiece,” Roman announced. “It’s _supposed_ to be bad, that’s the whole endearing quality of it—“

“You did this for the chaos, didn’t you,” Patton said, and Virgil murmured, “More food for us if they’re busy arguing.”

“Mm. Good point,” Patton said, bumping his hip with Virgil’s, grinning and leaning forwards to steal the rest of the buffalo chicken dip dish, settling it carefully onto his lap.

“Be fair, Logan,” Virgil said, grinning, “I could have picked, like, _Sharkbotasaur vs. Octomegaduck_ or something.”

Logan made a pained noise that would not have sounded out of place in a hospital.

“An octopus duck sounds kinda neat, though,” Patton said, musingly. “Would it have eight wings or eight little waddly legs? Or would it have tentacles plus wings and legs?”

“Four legs, four wings,” Roman suggested. “With fangs in the beak. Sixty feet tall.”

“I feel like we’re missing out on thinking about _sharkbotasaur,”_ Virgil said. “That’s a shark robot dinosaur. Which would win?”

“Sharkbotasaur,” Roman said, at the same time Patton said, “Octomegaduck.”

“I cannot believe you have started them down this path of hypothetical amalgamations of ridiculous animals,” Logan said. “I cannot _believe_ you are making me watch _Sharknado.”_

“I could have gone straight into the sequels,” Virgil pointed out. “They’re up to _Sharknado 5,_ now, Logan.”

“We truly live in an uncaring meaningless society full of backwards and contradictory rules in which our only motivations are monetary greed and shock factor,” Logan said tonelessly, as Roman said, “A _robot shark dinosaur, _Patton. That’s _way_ more badass than some fanged sixty-foot duck.”

“Language!”

“Fine, bad_butt. _Logan, back me up here—“

“Under no circumstances am I thinking about the mechanics of a _robot shark dinosaur_ fighting against an _octopus duck,”_ Logan said. “There is a _line, _and that is where I am drawing it.”

“Wait, the movie’s actually getting into it now, hush, we don’t want to miss the first shark attack,” Roman said.

“The movie has already shown a shark attack, Roman,” Logan groaned.

“Yeah, but this is the first one with _horrible fake blood,”_ Roman said excitedly.

Indeed, a surge of very fake blood popped up as the surfer was eaten, and Logan exhaled an audible sigh as the shark attack continued. Virgil snagged a slice of quesadilla, and nudged Patton. “You good?”

“It’s so fake, the blood’s not giving me problems like it usually does,” Patton mused, before licking some stray dip off of his thumb. “Maybe we should just watch really fake movies from now on.”

“I _refuse,”_ Logan declared loudly. “If I have to go _poking holes_ in moves like—like _Arachnoquake _or _Bearvalanche_—“

The other three sides broke into snickers, and Roman shouted, “Shush, shush, look, we’re about to get sharks on a waverunner!”

“Sharks—sharks wouldn’t attack someone on a _waverunner—”_

“Enjoy the hilarity, Lo,” Patton advised. “This isn’t going to be the most absurd thing about this movie.”

“Shark movies have been noted to provide negative public view towards sharks,” Logan grumbled. “Sharks are often unfairly persecuted—“

On screen, an actor attempted to wail convincingly enough to make the audience overlook the terrible CGI of his bitten-off leg.

“Motion for Logan to have a bowl of popcorn on his own so he can throw it at the movie screen and won’t drain the local supply,” Virgil offered.

“Sustained,” Roman said. 

“I wouldn’t—“

“Aw, Logan, you would,” Patton said, reassuringly, already handing over a bowl. 

“Yeah, man, you started throwing things at the screen during _Air Buddies,” _Roman pointed out.

“That movie is _also _nonsensical,” Logan grumbled, accepting the bowl. “Honestly, the concept of talking puppies, let alone talking puppies that can play _sports, _though saccharine_,_ is—“

“It’s a beautiful movie about the power of friendship and family, even through conflict like distance and danger,” Patton said defensively. 

“Okay, but the real question is which Air Buddy is everyone here?” Roman mused. “Clearly, I would be B-Dawg.”

They devolved into a conversation in which they decided which Buddy each of the sides were, in which time on screen the main character had closed up his bar and were starting to attempt to escape the increasing number of sharks dropping onto land, along with the ferris wheel that came loose in the storm.

“_Why are there sharks in the street,”_ Logan groaned. 

“They moved in with the hurricane, I guess,” Virgil said. “It’s probably best to not try to apply logic to this movie.”

Logan gave Virgil a dead-eyed stare, and gestured to his face as a whole.

“Yeah, sorry,” Virgil said, not sounding particularly sorry.

The first popcorn throw of the movie, unsurprisingly by Logan, was as a shark flew through the window and ate the main character’s ex-wife’s boyfriend, killing him instantly.

“Vore. Kinky,” Virgil muttered, under his breath, and got a handful of popcorn dumped over his head for his trouble.

Every side booed the screen when the main character quipped, “Guess it’s that time of the month.”

Now that the first popcorn had been thrown, all bets were off. Logan started looking more and more apoplectic with rage, directly correlated to how increasingly delighted Roman looked. Patton and Virgil scooped their snacks of choice, and settled in for the long haul.

**Author's Note:**

> symphony brownies, mentioned earlier, are a bit of a family recipe. make a batch of brownie mix from the box, pour in half, stick in about three/however many your pan can handle of [these bad boys](https://www.hersheys.com/en_us/products/symphony-milk-chocolate-with-almonds-and-toffee-bars-1.5-ounce-bars.html) cover with the rest of the brownie batter, bake and enjoy!


End file.
